


Amnesiac

by NovaKitten



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blood, Blood and Gore, Cannibalism, Dark Brotherhood - Freeform, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, How Do I Tag, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I'm Bad At Tagging, Original Character(s), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rating May Change, first-person pov
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-17
Updated: 2017-11-20
Packaged: 2018-12-02 09:58:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11507037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NovaKitten/pseuds/NovaKitten
Summary: A deadly assassin once plagued Skyrim. A woman with red hair, and yellow eyes. During that plague, the Dark Brotherhood thrived and flourished. She had no name or past, but crossing her path in her work attire usually meant certain death. One day, she dissappeared from the face of Tamriel. However, they say a woman runs an Inn in the middle of nowhere. They say she knows what happened to her.(I've updated this story from the original version I posted. It's still the same premise, just a new approach.)





	1. A Taste Of Murder

**Author's Note:**

> Just a forewarning: I have NEVER finished a quest in Skyrim. I'm pretty new to it. However SOME PEOPLE(in my family) don't shut up, and now the Dark Brotherhood questline is spoiled for me. I only know things about that questline, so forgive me if I get anything else wrong!

 

... Hm? Oh, hello there! Welcome to the Inn! How may I help you?... Yes, this is my little bar, out in the middle of nowhere. Business is good, though, so the only real problem is the wolves! 

Anyway, my name is Halia. What can I do for you?... Rumors...? About what?... Oh... That... Yes, they're true. I used to be in the Dark Brotherhood. What about it? I don't kill anyone anymore. I just run this Inn with my Husband. If you want someone dead, you can go contact the Brotherhood; death isn't my business.

... You want to hear about _me?_ Oh, well, um, there's... Not much to say, really... I was on my own at the time. Had a taste for blood, back then. It doesn't hold as much of an appeal, now. I was contacted by their leader after accidently killing one of their targets, and it's all history from there.

... Look, it's a long story, you dont-... That's... A lot of gold... You won't tell anyone?... Alright, fine, I'll tell you! Where to begin...

~Ω~Ω~Ω~Ω~

A long time ago, I suffered from a few... Conditions. One of them was Amnesia. I couldn't remember anything from before I was about thirteen. Eventually, I took it as my name. I needed to be called _something_ , and it was one of the few things I  _did_ know about myself.

My other condition was a living nightmare. Once every month, on the day of a new moon, I needed to eat flesh; usually, a human. Back then, I  _lived_ for war. There was nothing that got me going like a good fight. And, because of my lust for battle, I gorged myself on my fallen enemies. It became an obsession. I craved the taste of blood. I  _needed_ it. It was all I knew.

When I wasn't out looking for victims, I was usually around Windhelm. I hate being hot, but I do love the snow. I grew up in Windhelm, spent my days prowling the streets for enough meat, back when I was too meek to kill. It was home. It _still_  is home, even after all these years. Windhelm was the only place that was free of my bloodlust; I kept it away from the whole province. One wrong move, and I would have to leave it forever. 

I had a friend, a guard, who kept me updated with the latest gossip. I was often away for days, doing small jobs for coin, or just out adventuring, when I wasn't eating. One day, he told me about a little boy named Aventus Aretino. He had been sent to the Riften orphanage, but had recently escaped, and started trying to summon the 'Dark Brotherhood.'

I had no idea what the Dark Brotherhood was, but it intrigued me enough to investigate it further. Aventus spoke of Grelod the Kind, who ran the orphanage. She was an old and bitter bitch of a woman. Her name was a lie. She was incredibly cruel, and verbally abusive. She  _tortured_ those poor children.

I...  _Disposed_ of her while she slept. It was hard for me back then. I loved the sound of screaming from my victims. It did give me a chance to drain all of her blood before leaving, though. I even had a few bottles for the road. However, after the old hag was dead, things started to get strange.

I felt like I was being watched constantly. It was like a pair of tiny eyes were burning into my back, but when I would turn around, no one was there. Then came the note: a small piece of parchment with a black handprint. It had the words " _We Know_ " written underneath. 

Sleep was hard to come by that night. Eventually, I drifted off. When I woke up, a woman in black and red armor was sitting on a shelf, staring at me. I was in a totally new place, an abandoned shack in the middle of nowhere. The woman wore a cowl, so I was unable to see her face, but I could see her eyes. They watched me with curiosity and intrigue.

Her instructions were simple: kill one of the three targets in the room, and I would be free to go. I didn't think much of it. Free kill? Sure, why not? I did this kind of thing all the time. It didn't matter to me; they were just more guts for me to spill.

Two of the targets held me no interest: a sleazy, sweet-talking Khajiit, who was most likely a drug dealer, and a mother of six, who I would never intentionally kill. I could never stand the thought of orphaning children, after being abandoned in Windhelm all those years ago. However, the third really caught my eye.

He claimed to be a soldier. He snivelled and cowered as I approached him. This whining, cowering Nord? A soldier? Absolute horker shit. Soldiers were willing to risk their lives for their people. This one? He was afraid of death. A disappointment like him didn't deserve to live any longer. His death was quick; I slit his throat with a steel sword.

Then the smell of blood hit me. I had forgotten what day it was: the new moon. The scent hit me like a charging mammoth, and took me like a drug. All I saw was red, and I tore into the other two victims like paper. Flesh tore, bones snapped, intestines were ripped from their stomachs. Blood flowed onto my hands, splattering onto the floor and my body. I greedily devoured them, without a second thought.

As I came out of my haze of bloodlust, I remembered the woman on the shelf. I whipped around, preparing for the dagger against my throat. There was none. The woman remained on the shelf, staring at me. She chuckled, sliding off of the shelf.

"Now  _that_ was a most  _impressive_ display!"

I blinked in confusion. She wasn't... Afraid of me? I had known better than to eat in front of others; they feared me. They attacked me, and they tried to kill me. Yet this woman was... Happy with me?

"Tell me," she said, "what is your name?"

I focused on the small bulb of energy inside me; the source of my bloodlust. If things went south, I popped it, and all hell would break loose. "I'm... Amnesia..."

"Amnesia? How intriguing." She reached into a satchel at her hip and tossed me a key. "Well, you're free to go. Unless..."

I focused even harder on the bulb. "Unless what?"

"Perhaps you'd like to join me, and my little family?... I could offer you an endless supply of blood and bodies... Perhaps more than you could consume..." 

The bulb flared, and I stifled the growl rising in my throat. The statement went straight to my stomach. 

"I'll give you some time to think on the offer. If you decide you'd like to join-"

I held out a blood-soaked hand, and I grinned. "Oh, I've already decided."

Her eyes widened for a moment before flicking backto amusement. She took my hand in hers. That one moment changed my life forever.

 


	2. Sanctuary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I've never had a family before..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IT'S FINALLY DONE. Okay, been playing copious amounts of Skyrim lately. Just did the Companions, Forsworn, and I'm in the middle of the Dawngaurd and Dragonborn DLCs. Doin' my research, guys! :D

The woman, Astrid, told me to head to Falkreath, where the Dark Brotherhood Sanctuary was. The Brotherhood is still my family, and our Sanctuary my home, but back then, I was a bit doubtful. Astrid said there was no safer place in all of Skyrim. As far as I was concerned, I wasn't safe _anywhere._ I was little more than an animal back then. An animal can hide, but even the most cowardly rabbit will be found by the wolves at least once in its life.

The Sanctuary entrance was a metal door set inside an overhang of rock. It had a skeleton in one corner, a skull in another corner, and a larger skull in the very center. The larger skull had the Black Hand engraved on it, so I knew I had found the place.

I reached out to touch it, and I felt a presence in the back of my mind. There was a hiss, then a whisper:

_"What is Life's greatest illusion?"_

Astrid had told me the password before hand.

"Innocence, my brother..." I whispered back.

" _Welcome home..."_

The door swung open with a creak. As I stepped inside, it slammed shut with a loud bang. A banner with the black hand hung inside. A draft came in from a hole in the ceiling, blowing the scent of the forest into the room. However, when I exited the draft, a plethora of new smells hit me like a truck.

Some were easy enough; the sandy, dry smell of a redguard, the marshy scent of the Argonians, even the bitterness of Wolf. There was one scent I just couldn't get my head around, though. It was sickly sweet. It almost seemed to draw me in, even deeper into the cave system.

I quickly shook my head to clear it before heading into the next room. For something carved into the side of a mountain, it was quite cozy. Some shelves lined the walls, a table stood in one corner... And a familiar face stood in the doorway.

"At last!" Astrid half-sighed. "I hope you found the place alright."

"I managed."

"Welcome to our little sanctuary; your new home. I've already told the rest of the family about you; they're absolutely  _dying_ to see you!"

I smiled uneasily. "You know, I've never really had a family before..." 

I had accepted long ago that no one in their right mind would want a monster for a daughter. Perhaps I had a family once before, when I couod remember their faces. That girl, whoever she may have been was long dead. Only Amnesia remained, and Amnesia had no family.

Astrid frowned. "Oh, you poor dear..."

"It doesn't matter... I didn't learn to be a murderer by cuddles and smiles. I can take a few months on my own."

She chuckled. "Oh, but of course! And before I forget..."

Astrid walked over to one of the shelves and pulled out a set of red and black studded armor. "... A present for you."

As I took the armor in my hands, I could feel the slight thrum of magic emanating from it. I have basic knowledge of magic. Only ignorant people shun the practice. Even if you aren't a mage yourself, magic is such a large part of Tamriel. Being ignorant about it is suicide. My own knowledge was limited to basic restoration magic, and my flame atronoch Roxy... Oh, she's around here somewhere. Probably warming up the fire.

"You try that on, and then introduce yourself to the others. They're _dying_ to meet you! If you're ready, you can also see Nazir about some work." Astrid smiled, then disappeared into the sanctuary.

 After putting on the armor, I headed further into the Sanctuary. The inside was beautiful. There were plants everywhere, and a tiny stream of water ran through the middle. A large stained-glass window off Sithis was set in the back wall.

A group of people stood in a circle a few feet away, presumably the rest of my newfound family. In the center was a young girl, no more than ten years old. Even from where I was standing, I could see her black eyes, the pointed fangs that glistened as she talked and laughed. The sickly sweet smell was coming from her; the scent of a vampire.

I leaned against a wall, taking in the people before me: a green-scaled Argonian; a Dark Elf in hooded robes; a tall man wearing no shoes, where the Wolf smell was coming from; a hooded Redgaurd; and an older balding man.

The Argonian briefly turned around, spotting me. He nudged the Redguard, who also turned. I smiled at him, fluttering my fingers in a wave as he walked towards me.

"So, you're the newest member of our dwindling, dysfunctional family." He said, putting his hands on his hips.

"Present and accounted for."

"I've heard quite a bit a bit about you... Astrid's description of the event was quite-" He grinned. "Vivid."

I snorted, offerring my hand. "Amnesia. And you are?"

"Nazir." He replied, taking my hand.

 "Astrid said you'd have some work for me."

"As a matter of fact, I do. They're not the most glamorous of assassinations, but they'll do."

Almost as if I could taste the blood on my tongue, my mouth began to water. And as the hunger began to settle within me, I knew I had made the right decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, an explanation of Babbette's 'sickly sweet' smell. I like to imagine that one of the ways a vampire lures people in is with that smell. Amni's more sensitive to smells and stuff, so she notices it when others don't.


	3. The Jester

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "My life was stable; boring, even. Then he appeared."

For the next few weeks, I spent most of my time doing simple work Nazir assigned me. Like he said, they weren't very glamorous kills, but they kept me fed; kept the beast down. It wasn't always as simple as I thought, but the harder my prey, the sweeter the taste.

When I wasn't out gorging myself, I was at the sanctuary relaxing with my new family. I'd never had many close friends outside of Windhelm, but these people were just like me; they were just as insane as I was.

More often then not, I found myself in the company of Babbette. She was the only one who could sympathize with my...  _condition._  The tiny vampire amused me, if only because the words of an old soul came out in a child's voice.

I settled into a routine, something I'd never had the luxury of before. My life was stable; boring, even. Then _he_ appeared.

 I'd come back after a contract to a certain smell. The sanctuary reeked of death. Not fresh death; my nose was instead flooded by rotting flesh. I don't I know why, but I'd always  _hated_ the scent. It sent a surge of fear through me like no other. So, of course, the fact that the smell was in the sanctuary made it even worse.

I rushed deeper into the sanctuary, and found an interesting sight indeed. A giant metal coffin, and next to it a man in jester's clothing. I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing. It amused me so much that I forgot about the smell. But then I heard the conversation.

The Jester seemed to be in some... _disagreement_ with Arnbjorn. He kept saying that a 'Night Mother' and how she was the true leader of the Dark Brotherhood. I barely remember what was said after that, only that Astrid broke it up. I later came to learn the Jester's name.

Cicero was a man who kept me on my toes. One moment, he'd be doing something quietly in a corner, the next he'd be singing and dancing crazy little poems. I liked him. He made my life exciting. Little did I know, it would be Cicero who would simultaneously make me lose all control of my life, and give full control over myself.


End file.
